"No," replied Wild; "and I've only listened to your absurd proposal to see how far your insane attachment to this lad would carry you. I've my own reasons for disliking this job. Lucy loved orchestras, the bittersweet tinge of rosin dust that hung in the air, the way that the sun shone through filthy windows illuminating the marimbas with a storybook light. "Where are you going?" she asked. I can’t forget about your sister. It was easy to discover that he was a knave, but equally easy to perceive that he was a pleasant fellow; a combination of qualities by no means of rare occurrence.
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